Before the Bros
by AbstractionDesolation
Summary: Angsty fan fic between Iron Man and Hulk, before the Science Bros are a thing.
1. Chapter 1

Periodically he glanced at the tiny monitor in the corner of the screen. It was hard to get absorbed in his work when more than half his mind was focused on those specific pixels. He'd set the A.I. to watching Tony for him weeks ago, shortly after he realized just how much the other man was drinking.

He felt conflicted about this intrusion into Tony's personal life, but in the end his need to repay the man's kindness won out. He couldn't just let Tony drink himself into oblivion after he had given Bruce so much. The lab and his room, sure. But most of all the trust. Tony trusted him enough to keep The Other Guy in check and let Bruce into his home. It was huge for Bruce - no one had trusted him since the accident. No one looked at him like Tony did - like he was a person and not a barely contained monster.

Today Tony was out on the high, open patio. He'd started the morning with coffee, but by the fading light of evening he was well into his first bottle. A small sigh slipped from him as he picked up another tool and tried to refocus on the machine in front of him.

Tony shivered in his lounge chair. Though the sun was sinking away, it was still quite warm out here. So why was he so cold? Goose bumps chased up and down his bare arms. The bottle was empty when he pressed it to his lips and he let it fall. He was so tired. So lonely. So... What? The trademark cockiness was long gone tonight, a well worn mask that he just couldn't bear to wear.

He stared, eyes unfocused, into his own head. Memories and fears swirled together in laughing mockery of him. He pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face against them, struggling not to cry. Just too much. Too much pain. Too much fear. Too much death. Too much his fault. He gave in and sobbed.

When he sat upright again it was deep night and the moon was high, but he didn't see it. He'd made up his mind. He rose and walked slowly, resolutely, towards the edge of the patio. The edge of the building. The edge of his resolve. The edge of his life.

Bruce paused, the piece he was working on forgotten in his grasp, when he glanced next at the small window containing his friend. He'd been still so long Bruce thought he slept, and he was grateful. Now his blood turned cold and his breath froze in his chest. He maximized the window and Tony's image filled the screen. The lean, cocky face and bright eyes were stained with tears. There was a calmness, a resolved look to his features. A major decision made and accepted etched in his eyes.

No!

He recognized that look and it terrified him to see it on Tony's face.

He was out the lab door, running for dear life - Tony's life - before the pieces he'd been holding stopped falling.

When he got to the roof he was breathless and panicked. Tony stood at the edge, facing the city. His shoulders were rounded and he looked so small, so frail.

Bruce kept running, praying to gods he didn't believe in, but he knew he was too late, too far away. As he watched, Tony straightened, standing tall and fierce. He spread his arms out like wings, and after an agonizing moment, started to fall forward into thin air.

"Come on Big Guy, don't fail me now!" Bruce kept running, and followed his only friend over the edge.

When he woke he had far too many questions and not enough answers. He had woken, so his gambit that the Other Guy wouldn't let him die had paid off. He'd figured it would. His own suicide attempt, as well as several other ... adventures ... had been enough to convince him that it was a worthwhile risk.

The surroundings told him he was back in his room in Stark / Avengers tower. But had it worked? He was out of bed and through the door an instant after he verified he wouldn't be roaming around naked. Had it really worked? Had he been in time? Had the Other Guy read his intentions and helped in the cause? Or had he been too late? Had he let Iron Man die and gone on his own rampage? His thoughts were electrified and buzzing. Part terror, part worry, and underneath it all a thin current of pure panic. I will never forgive myself if I was too late. I will find a way to kill us. I swear it, I will kill us if he - we - I - fucked this up.

Bare feet carried him through now familiar halls in a frantic search for answers and relief. The lab had been dark and quiet as he checked there first. Fury and Natasha looked up at him from their seats in the living room, and Clint called out from an unseen perch, but he passed by too quickly to read their expressions. He was too afraid of what he'd see.

"Bruce, we need -" Fury started, but the voice fell away as he slipped out of the room and down the corridor to Tony's room. They watched him go, no one willing to call him back when he was that focused and so obviously on edge.

He tried to slow his breathing, calm his pulse as he left them behind. He knew the path of destruction began here, but it was so hard to concentrate with so much fear. He burst into Tony's room hoping to see some sign that he hadn't failed.

The room was sunlit and warm, and the massive bed was right there in front of Bruce. But there was no sign of Tony. No shed t-shirt carelessly dropped on the carpet. No sprawled arm, hint of leg, anything visible in the smooth sheets. The bed was empty, neatly made. Tony's cell phone was on a bedside table, blinking its alerts. Tony hated to leave messages unread, unless he was absolutely absorbed.

He scanned the rest of the room and collapsed against the door, closing it with a slam, when he found no sign of life. He slid slowly to the floor, dazed. Too late. Too late. Too late. He couldn't believe it. Didn't want to believe it. Even in his deepest fears he had held on to the spark of hope that it had all worked out. The spark extinguished and he fell to his side against the door, an anguished moan escaping him as he hit the floor.

He replayed the moments on the roof over and over. Tony's graceful fall, looking for all the world as if he expected to grow feathers and fly. His own forward leap, keeping his arms tight and close, trying to minimize wind resistance as he raced death. "Ok, Big Guy," he had thought, "this is important to us. We CANNOT let him ..." And then he lost consciousness as he felt the beast within emerge.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his face tucked into his arms. "I am so sorry. I was too late." He laid on the floor and cried for his friend. For his failure. For everything.

Tony was toweling his hair out, fluffing the dark strands as he emerged from his bathroom. Warm steam puffed out behind him and he hummed an AC/DC song to himself. He turned towards his massive closet, dropping the wet towel behind him and buttoning his jeans.

"I'm sorry Tony..." It was a muffled and heartbroken voice. He paused, bare chest pricking into goose bumps. Slowly he turned towards his door. Bruce was crumpled in on himself, curled against the wood, shaking. He was murmuring over and over, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The bruised flesh of Tony's ribs twinged as he flashed back momentarily on the instant his free fall had ended, not with jarring blackness, but with massive green arms snatching him out of the sky. Hulk had caught him, crushing him to the massive chest, and rolled them midair taking the brunt of the impact. His ribs had nearly shattered, his whole body felt like he'd been hit by a train, but he had lived. He owed Hulk - Bruce - his life.

He crossed the room and squatted next to his green guardian angel. Low and quietly, he asked, "For what Bruce? For saving me?"

Bruce gasped sharply and scrambled awkwardly upright. "T-Tony? Y-you're!" He flung himself forward, catching Tony off balance and tumbling him backward. "You're alive! You're alive! You're alive!" He was nearly incoherent as Tony winced from the jarring of his pained body. Like a shadow of the Hulk's catch, Bruce had wrapped his arms around him and was hugging tightly.

He eased himself out of the embrace with a hissed intake of breath. "Yeah. I am." His voice was almost a whisper. "Thanks to you."

His heart stuttered in his chest when he heard Tony speak. He went from devastated to delirious in a millisecond. He knew he was babbling and stuttering, but he was so relieved he couldn't help it. When Tony slipped away from him with a pained noise and sat up Bruce finally looked at him.

The playboy looked like hell. He'd showered and shaved, his eyes were clear and sober, but his body was a galaxy of bruises. His bare chest was a rainbow of pain and his movements were carefully restrained.

"Oh! Oh Christ." Bruce realized how much his tackle had probably hurt. "Is that..." He gestured towards the other man meekly. "Is that my fault?"

They were both sitting on the floor, facing each other from an arm's length away. Tony's nod cut through his relief and made him drop his chin to his chest. He'd saved his friend, but he'd hurt him too. He felt so awful about that. Even as himself he couldn't help hurting those close to him. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'd be in a box of it weren't for you."

Bruce looked up again. "I know." He felt a flare of anger and he breathed deeply a few times. When he spoke next his voice quivered. "Why? Why the ... The ..." He struggled for words. "Why the fuck would you do that? Of all the.. The..." His voice finally broke. "Why would you leave us like that?"

He stared into the other man's eyes, daring him to say something, to defend himself. Tony looked back at him, unflinching. "The same reason you put a gun in your mouth." There was no malice in it, just an understanding. "I finally understood why you'd tried. You ... Well... You failed because of who - what - you are. I don't have that inside of me. I'm just a guy in a suit. So I took the suit off and tried to fly. But again, because of who and what you are, you couldn't let me do it either."

"Promise me you won't try that bullshit again." It was a demand, not a question. When no answer was forthcoming he closed the distance between them, practically nose to nose and glared. His hands locked on to Tony's shoulders. "Promise. Me."

Tony watched the chocolate brown eyes inches away from him swirl with green. Bruce was serious. Tony had prodded and jabbed, joked and did his damnedest to get Bruce to lose his iron control. Now that he was seeing it so up close he wasn't sure he was wise in those endeavors. He swallowed once before nodding. "Ok. Ok Bruce. I promise."

Bruce let him go and fell back. "Good." He stood and offered a hand. Tony took it, letting himself be helped from the floor.

"Fury, Natasha, and Clint are here. I should probably go explain myself." He turned to go.

"They're not here for the reason you think..."

Bruce looked back over his shoulder. "They're not going to lock me up and throw away the key?" His self deprecating smile made Tony a little sad. He was always expecting the worst.

"Nope."

"Why not? They have to know about ... About the Other Guy paying a visit." He sighed. "I don't even know what he did yet, but I know I have to face the music." He reached for the door knob.

"They don't."

Bruce paused, arm out stretched, before turning back. "They don't?" His confusion was obvious.

Tony shook his head. He didn't know how to explain. "When I realized that Big Green had showed up I used this - " he held up his wrist, showing Bruce the band around it. "to call the suit. I had enough of it on the the time we landed that... Well, I'm mobile and only partly broken, aren't I? Anyway. Hitting the ground like an atom bomb knocked Hulk out briefly. By the time I was fully suited up, you were back. I got us off the street, it seems before anyone realized what was going on." Bruce stood mutely, waiting. "I got you to your room and came to mine before I passed out from ... Well. From falling off a building." He half smiled but the doc didn't return it.

"What day is it?"

That wasn't the question he was expecting and he was caught off guard.

"Tony, how long have I been out?"

"It's Wednesday. Two days. You've been out almost two days. Long enough that I was starting to worry."

Two days gone. And according to Tony he had been green and angry for minutes, not hours, and had done nothing destructive. Being knocked out had cut the green guy short. He filed the information away for later contemplation before coming back to the fact that he had lost two days. He was relieved that the others, especially Fury, weren't here to take him away.

As if the thought had summoned the man, Fury's voice rang through the door. "I don't know what you two are up to in there and frankly I don't care. We have business to discuss and I want you to get your butts out here. NOW." Bruce opened the door and stepped out, trying not to look sheepish or guilty, and not sure if he succeeded.

Tony was on his way to the closet, no doubt to get a shirt. Bruce looked down and finally realized he was wearing dark grey sweatpants and a black tshirt with a band logo on it. The shirt was one of Tony's but the pants at least we're his own. Not what he wanted to discuss business with the others in, but he didn't think Fury would let him go change.

When he entered the living room Natasha stared openly at him. Her eyes were questioning, but gentle, and he looked away quickly. He didn't want to explain. Fortunately he didn't have to.

"Director Fury. To what do I owe this intrusion?" Tony entered, dressed in a long sleeve shirt under a tshirt. It was far too hot for it outside, but inside the tower it was fine. Bruce knew the sleeves were to cover up the bruises on Tony's arms, but he didn't think the others would think twice about it.

Clint startled him by placing a hand on his shoulder and handing him a cup of tea. Bruce took it with a quiet thanks and settled in for what Fury had to say. He caught Tony's eye from across the room and tried to tell him silently "this isn't over." He hoped he wasn't imagining the subtle head lift in acknowledgement.


	2. Chapter 2

Depression and alcoholism don't vanish instantly just because you failed your suicide attempt. Bruce continued to keep a watch over Tony. They hadn't spoken much since the day in Tony's room. They'd worked, sometimes side by side, some times separately, and they'd kept up appearances of camaraderie when the group was together.

He kept catching Natasha covertly watching them whenever they were all together. Her hurried looks away spoke volumes for the thoughts her lips wouldn't say and he felt ashamed. He thought he read pity in her eyes and that hurt almost as much as If she'd shown fear. He kept to himself after that staying out of common areas and drifting between his bedroom and the labs.

"Ow, what was that for?" He rubbed his side where Tony had poked him with a wrench none too gently. He glanced at his watch. "It's after three in the morning. Why are you here?" He gestured at his work space, "I'm busy."

"I see that. I also see that." Tony pointed to the corner of one of the monitors, where his image was pointing to an even smaller monitor, on and on in to pixelated oblivion. "Why are you spying on me?" There was a heat to his voice and Bruce struggled to keep an answering anger from rising as Tony growled, "Why are you spying on every thing I do?"

"Why? You ask me why? You're the genius, Stark. You tell me why. Or better yet, tell me why I shouldn't. Why shouldn't I want to make sure that the core of our misfit group of *heroes* doesn't pull the world down around his ears in selfish destruction. Why shouldn't I keep an eye on you to make sure you don't attempt another high dive. Or crawl back into your bottle. Or any one of a thousand other things you're capable of that would demolish everything you've ever built and everyone that ever cared about you." He was almost shouting by the end of his speech, and he had risen from his chair to crowd Tony's space until the taller man had backed into a table. "You. Tell. Me."

"Because it's none of your business." Stark stood to his full height, trying to intimidate back but Banner wasn't having it.

"It is too my business. You're the one that dragged me here. Made me part of this... This.. Team. You're the one that wouldn't let me stay where I was, if not safe, at least not a danger. It's your fault I'm here and I'll be damned if I let you leave me here alone. The only thing keeping Fury and the others from locking me in a cage for the rest of my life is the fact that *you* insisted I stay with you. Where you'd keep an eye on me. So unless you're going to let me go back to where I was, and unless you can promise they won't drag me back, you don't get to be so stupid and selfish. When your actions can cost me my life, it is *my* business." He trembled slightly, so frustrated with the man in front of him that he could barely keep from clenching his fists and decking the cocky playboy.

Tony stared, watching the tracers of green slip through Banner's eyes again. It was a sure sign of his deadly seriousness and once again Tony felt his typical smart ass remarks die in his throat. Only Bruce could make him hesitate from saying something dickish. Director Fury, Natasha, Clint, even death itself couldn't keep Tony from being snarky, but this shadow of Hulk could.

He felt the tension he'd been carrying since his decision to confront the doc slip away as he gave up the offense. He'd meant to corner Bruce, to get him to leave him alone and stop watching him. Instead he'd been countered with harsh truth. In all honesty he wasn't sure what he'd do if he knew his green guardian angel wasn't watching. Would he try to end it all again? Could he gather that resolve and find a new way to oblivion? He just didn't know. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to do anything as long as he knew he was being watched constantly by the one person he respected.

The doc was staring at him still, eyes cooled to chocolate once again, but still chest to chest. "I'm. ... I'm sorry Bruce." Tony let his shoulders slump, relaxing back onto the table he'd been forced against, all the fight draining from him. He closed his eyes and ran a hand wearily through his hair.

"I wasn't thinking -"

"Yeah, no shit!" The interruption startled him into opening his eyes and looking at Bruce again. His lips quirked slightly at how flustered Banner looked. Banner's curls were still unkempt, his face tired, but he was so ... So ... Striking in his emotion. It was odd to note that the quiet brilliance covered a rather passionate individual.

"Ow!" Tony rubbed his bicep, startled out of his thoughts by the punch Bruce had just landed. His arm ached as he slid sideways away from the man in front of him. "Let me finish!" But his thoughts had been derailed and he couldn't recover quickly.

Bruce watched him expectantly as he fumbled for words. "Look. I am sorry. I didn't think the long term picture when I made you come here. I didn't think about your future. Just mine. And now that the crisis is over, I guess I just didn't worry about what anyone else would do. When I couldn't see any way out of my own head, I... Well."

"So you used me." It was flat, emotionless, even to his own ears. Over the last months he'd started to become comfortable with Tony. Not that they were friends as such, but it had been nice to be trusted. He'd finally been letting his guard down, letting himself set routines, roots, into life here. And it was a lie.

He wanted to hit tony again. He wrapped his control around himself tightly, arms crossed over his chest in a subconscious gesture of need. He'd leave, crawl back into the jungle, keep trying to make up for what he was until he succeeded in finding a way to end it all. The irony of having saved his friend from suicide, only to plan his own - again - made him exhale sharply, a shadow of a bitter laugh.

He turned from Tony, reaching for his computer. A few clicks and the running image in the corner vanished. "There. You're free." He turned the screen so Tony could see. "Go drown yourself in whiskey. I won't stop you."

"It's not like that. I wasn't using you. I just..."

Bruce refused to look up as Tony trailed off. He was too wounded to listen.

"Bruce, you are one of the most brilliant men I have ever met. The fact that you turn into a huge green rage monster is a bonus. I wasn't using you. But I was fascinated by you. And I'm sorry that my selfishness cost you."

Bruce didn't move as he heard Tony's footsteps leaving the lab. When the door had hushed closed Bruce picked up his notes and tried to concentrate. Half his mind focused on the data in front of him, the other half began planning his escape.

Tony slunk out of the room, perturbed. He hadn't meant it like that, but there was no way of fixing it that he could see. He pondered fixing himself a drink, but brushed the thought away. He had things to do, not the least of which was figuring out how to keep Bruce from leaving.


	3. Chapter 3

Frustrated, he ran his hand through his already disheveled hair.

"Why won't this balance?" He frowned at the equation glowing in the glass in front of him. It had been days. Days of pacing. Days of little sleep and less food. Days of everyone tiptoeing around the lab doors, whispering among themselves about what to do. What to do about - with - him.

"What am I not seeing?" The fragments they had gotten from Loki's ruined staff and the remains of Ultron's robots had yielded a thrilling amount of data - something Bruce considered better than toys on Christmas. But this project just wasn't coming together.

"Damnit!" His palm slapped the table making the screen in front of him flicker. The others would have flinched and braced for the Other Guy. No danger of that. In his world of constant anger this was merely a frustration.

His glasses fell to the table as he rubbed his eyes. Sighing, he slumped against a wall, resting his face in his palms and curling his legs up to his chest. He sat that way a lot when he was up against something like this. Protecting himself. From what, he didn't know.

/

In the next room, fingertips run lightly across Bruce's image. Tony had been watching for five days, waiting for trouble. It made his chest ache now, to see the man huddled around himself. All witty remarks and taunts faded from his mind as he stared at the monitor.

He'd really stepped in it this time. He'd intended to confront the doc, get him to stop watching his every waking moment. He'd ended up hurting his friend's feelings in the process. He really did respect the doc. Thought him to be intriguing, and someone worth having around. But he hadn't said that. Instead he'd made it sound as though the other man were a means to an end.

Bruce had barely slept since then. Tony had taken a page out of Banner's book and had the AI set up a monitor. He didn't think Bruce would attempt anything drastic while still in Stark tower, for fear of the Other Guy. He did think that Bruce was working himself to frenzy, in preparation of his inevitable departure.

"He can't even relax when he's exhausted... What kind of life is that?" Relaxation had always been key to Tony. Beaches dripping with sunshine, massages, stiff drinks in front of a fire place. He couldn't imagine life without the ability to enjoy that.

Minutes ticked by. Banner didn't move. His breathing seemed to slow. Is he going to sleep like that? The man's gonna regret that in the morning.

Everyone else had long since left. Clint and Natasha has gone to see Nathaniel. Ever since Banner had rejected her, flying away into hiding, she had become more involved in the raising of the baby. She threw herself into his care and the training of the new recruits. She barely spoke to Bruce after he came back but came at times to talk to Tony. She had glanced into the lab this time, but ducked away before he saw her. She worried about The Other Guy, but Tony assured her they were fine. She left it at that.

Thor was still gone, gathering information about the stones. Steve barely left the base's training facilities, but when he did it was to stop by Tony's place to check if he needed help with the Doctor.

"And now it's just us." Tony gave a short exhale of a chuckle. "What am I supposed to do? Babysit?"

He got up, stretched his arms behind him, pressing the arc reactor against his shirt. "Friday?"

"Yes sir."

"I'm going to help the incredible doofus in there to get to his room. Will you close the lab when we leave?"

"Of course sir."

He walked from the room, giving the small, quiet laugh again.

/

The dreams were never pleasant. In waking hours he never remembered the details but in sleep he felt like he would never wake again. Flashes of the past would mingle with fears. Fears would weave into visions of the future, twisting and torturing him. Even in dreams, a few moments peace would be ripped apart by the Other Guy.

Natasha had come close. She had shown him that he had some control. But her adoration wasn't enough. He left her so she could move on, find someone else. His heart wasn't in it with her. She was wonderful. He half loved her, but not like that. And half wasn't enough. His sleeping brain would take her love and twist it. He killed her almost every time he slept. He never remembered how he did it, but he could always see her bloodied body and lifeless face. Every time he slept someone died - so he tried to quit sleeping. He would see her look of betrayal and it would pierce him to the quick. When it wasn't her, it was the others. All of them had been ripped apart by his instability on a nearly nightly basis. But as bad as his dreams of Natasha hurt, he was driven to near madness when it was Tony. The answer for him was an impossible puzzle that he could lose himself in. Pretend it was a missing answer that kept him on his feet, rather than fear.

He hadn't meant to sleep. He'd meant to sit, to wait, and to think.

He knew instantly it was a dream. Darkness. He felt the panic rising. He felt his control slipping him and he clenched his fists, tremors running along his arms. No no no no no. A frustrated scream ripped from him. Spinning in circles he looked for a way out. For a sign this time would be different. For anything. Nothing. He sunk to his knees as lightning tendrils of green skittered across his shaking body. Who will it be this time he wondered. Eyes tightly closed, he waited.

Light pressed against his eyelids. Thinking here we go, he opened his eyes. Blue light. Coming closer and closer. A thudding, deep and resonant, started. It surround him. Steady and even it throbbed. Nothing there but the glow, familiar in a way he couldn't quite place. Looking down he saw himself, naked and human. "What the?"

A warmth spread over him, helping to drive out the chills that the metabolic shift always left him with. Cocking his head to one side, chewing his lower lip, he waited. Waited for it to turn terrifying. Waited for blood, and tears.

/

"For a guy that doesn't eat, you sure are solid!" Tony uffed as he lifted the shorter man. For a moment, when he first entered the room, he was afraid. Bruce had't responded to the knock on the door frame, or his name. He had trembled, small whimpers and short shallow breathing coming from him that made Tony's own breath hitch slightly. The doctor's arms had been locked around his knees and it had been difficult to shift him enough to be able to pick him up.

"Guess you're not gonna make this as easy as throwing you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes are you." One arm under his knees, and one behind his shoulders, Tony picked Bruce up. The dark curls swept across the sleeping man's face as his head slumped to rest next to the glow of the arc reactor. Tony felt his heart beat pick up, though he told himself it was from the effort of lifting, and not from seeing his friend's face lose some tension as he was moved.

"Come on big guy. Let's get you outta here."

/

He examined his hands, turning them over and back. No signs of the Other Guy. It was calm and comforting. He thought he should be nervous, waiting for something terrible to happen as it always did, but he wasn't. He couldn't figure it out. A new puzzle for tomorrow. The blue light... Where was that from? This beat, this... Pulse... What is that? He was so tired. Exhausted. "Do I dare?" Sinking to his knees again, he lay down. Relaxed, ever so slightly, then tensed immediately. But nothing happened. No flash of accusing or dead eyes. No screams. No loss of control. He took a deep breath, stretched out for the first time since the accident, and fell out of dreams into deep sleep.

/

Halfway into the room Tony kept for the doctor he nearly stumbled in surprise. The weight he had been carrying shifted as the man in his arms relaxed so suddenly it was like holding a water balloon the size of a person.

"Whoa big guy. Friday?" The lights flipped on dimly and Tony tripped across the room, trying to soften the fall as he lost control over his burden. The room was nearly empty of its original furnishings. At Bruce's request everything but a table with a comfy chair, a bookshelf, and the bed had been removed. "In case the Other Guy shows up" he had said, a self deprecating half smile on his face.

He made it, barely, to the bed and half laid, half dropped Bruce into it. He pulled the comforter, one luxury item that had been kept for its spectacular warmth, over.

"Rest up big guy. The lab will be there in the morning."

He turned to leave.

/

Eyes flashed open. Darkness. He groaned. Again? The thrumming beat had faded, as did the glow. His legs convulsed as his brow furrowed. "Whhhhhhhyyyyyyy?"

/

Three steps. Three steps away when he heard the other man shift violently in his bed. Turning, he saw the other man had rolled to his side, away from the door and wrenched his legs up to his chest once more.

"Friday?"

"He's still sleeping. But he appears to be having a nightmare."

"Am I in danger?" He stepped closer, slowly and carefully, staring at the pained expression his friend now wore.

"I would think not sir. He was having a nightmare when you entered the lab."

"Well good. Let's hope his reflexes don't go green on me now then."

He touched the shoulder visible. "What's going on in there buddy?" A sigh ran out of the sleeping man and a margin of relaxation seemed to come over him.

"Um, Friday? What'd I do?"

"It seems that your proximity makes his dreams better, though without a polysomnogram I can't tell you more details. Would you like me to set one up?"

"No, that's fine. Let's not open that Pandora's box tonight. What time is it?"

"Barely eleven pm sir."

"That's early to be going to bed, but..."

He pulled his hand away, and sat on the edge of the bed. He toed his shoes off and slipped the buckle apart on his belt.

"Sir?"

"He needs sleep. It appears I'm a surrogate teddy bear, and I'll be damned if I sleep in these jeans."

He slipped out of the denim, revealing loose boxer shorts with cartoons on them. The pants lay in a pile on top of his shoes. Move over doc. I'll be a teddy bear, but this is technically my bed. His violent motion had shifted him, leaving just enough room for Tony to slip into bed beside him.

"You'd better not snore.,

/

The light vanished but the pulse and warmth flooded back. Oh, thank god. He almost cried. It had been so blissful, true sleep. He always woke sore and muscle weary and he knew it was from the tension he put on himself. His dreams turned him into the other guy but another level of his brain kept him in check, keeping the change from becoming physical. Somehow he thought this would be different.

He relaxed again and told himself to enjoy it while he could.

/

"Pepper?" Tony felt the body next to him as he woke slowly. He couldn't remember yet where he was. The dim light seemed bright as he shifted his weight to look at the person beside him. Instead of red hair and a playful smile, he found himself looking a deep brown eyes surrounded by thick lashes.

"Money's on the dresser?" He tried to make it light.

"I don't have a dresser."

"The table then; cut me some slack. I don't usually wake up not alone."

"Yeah, uh, well. Me neither. Want to explain?"

"You fell asleep in the lab."

"And I got here... How?"

"Well, you know. Have to keep the lab clean. Don't want drool all over the floor, so I brought you to your room."

"I don't drool."

"Yeah. I noticed. Well." Tony started to rise, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. The room was chilly as he slipped out of the covers. "You are more of a space heater than a swimming pool..." He faced the room, starting to reach for his jeans.

A hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't leave me."

Tony turned back to face him. The soft, pleading look he was met with almost broke his heart.

/

He woke first. Clicking the button on his watch to illuminate the numbers, he saw it was four thirty. He'd been asleep for hours - he should be badly in need of a massage but he wasn't. It was a glorious feeling to wake refreshed for the first time in years. He turned over, ready to go back to the lab when he finally noticed the form beside him.

"What in the holy?" Tony was there, sleeping beside him. His breathing was slow and steady, his face relaxed, one arm slung across "... Across me..."

The glow of the arc reactor triggered a memory of the light he had seen in his sleep and he put it together. The glow, the pulse - HIS pulse, the warmth... All him. It was enough to make his brain fuzzy.

When Tony awoke it was all Bruce could do not to wrap him in a hug. The joking that started immediately made him withdraw quickly though. In a low voice he answered the jests, wishing he knew what to think, what to feel. It had become a secret fantasy to wake up next to this genius, billionaire, philanthropist, playboy since he'd realized Tony wasn't dead, but he had hoped it would be without the playboy connotations and with a bit more ... What?

As Tony started to rise, he couldn't help himself. His arm shot out, hand wrapping around the strong wrist. He wanted to beg. He wanted to explain, to cry, to...

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't leave me."

He let go and curled in on himself. His voice was rough as he spoke next. "Please. I don't know how. Why. But please..."

"Hey, hey, hey..." Gentle and cajoling. "What's wrong?"

"I can't... I need."

The blanket shifted as Tony slid his legs back into bed. "I can stay big guy. It sucks to have nightmares."

"How did... How did you know?" He buried his face. He couldn't stand it. It was shame, and for more reasons than he'd ever admit.

"You're not the only one with a past in this world you know... You're not the only one in this room even." The arm came back, as did the warmth. "I just don't have to stay tightly wound all the time. Will you relax? I can't get comfortable with you curled up like a cocktail shrimp."

Slowly, one muscle at a time Bruce let himself unfurl.

"Since you're the shorter one, I only think it's fair that I'm the big spoon." The teasing tone was back, comforting some how.

"What?"

"I could pull out the "my house, my rules" if you want... Now scoot over."

He did as he was told, confused and guarded as he went back to his side.

"Better"

Tony squirmed up, putting his chest against Bruce's back and putting his arm across his chest. The distance between their lower bodies closed, legs touching as Tony snuggled in. "I'm getting more sleep. You should too big guy."

Feeling the heartbeat against his back and the breath in his hair, Bruce sighed.

"Just don't get weird about this in the morning - this isn't my idea you know."

Tony chuckled behind him. "You know it so is."

/

The hitch in Banner's breathing told him he was right. Right about several things. He squeezed his hand against Bruce's chest and smiled into his hair.

"We'll worry about it in the morning."

He waited until the doc dropped off again before letting himself fall back to sleep. His last awake thought was "we need to get a new blanket doc, cuz this one is a sauna with both of us."


	4. Chapter 4

Inhaling deeply he braced himself. He didn't know how the man in his bed was going to react and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out. The only thing he did know was that he was the most relaxed and refreshed as he had been in years, and it was all thanks to the genius he was currently inadvertently cuddling. Tony had somehow snugged himself up against Bruce and was using his shoulder as a pillow with Bruce's arm curled around him. Tony had one hand under his cheek, the other arm flung carelessly across Bruce's chest. Banner half smiled, feeling Iron Man breathing deeply against him.

He was so confused. He'd been angry at Stark, felt hurt and betrayed that he, of all people, would try to throw his life away. Then Tony had confronted him and told him that it was none of his business, that he should stay out of it and that the reason for dragging him out of hiding was simple curiosity. It had been the death knell of Bruce's sanity, in one stroke showing him how infatuated he'd become with the man and revealing just how little Tony thought of him in return. He'd even caught himself wishing a time or two that he had just let Tony finish his fall.

Then he would feel worse for having even imagined it and it would send him into a guilty spiral. He'd had several days where only the knowledge that the Other Guy would most likely interfere and make things worse kept him from trying to launch himself off a building or otherwise trying to kill himself. Every moment became devoted to distraction on the outside and escape on the inside. Days of agonizing wakefulness and planning. Setting aside resources, aided by a small modification he snuck in enabling him to use the house AI to covertly set things up. When he had passed out last night his plans were close to finalization.

And then he had woken in the predawn morning and found himself comforted and protected by one of the last people he ever would have expected.

"Stark?" He spoke quietly, twitching his shoulder and gently jostling the sleeping man. "Tony? We should get up now." He'd checked his watch when he'd woken again It was after ten in the morning and he'd been asleep for the better part of twelve hours. He felt physically better than he had in nearly as long as he could remember. Mentally though... Well, he was just going to have to be ready for whatever was to come.

He rubbed the arm Tony had stretched across him and flexed his shoulder again. "Tony, please."

"Mmrrrrph." Tony squeezed Bruce tighter for a moment.

"Friday?" Bruce wasn't even trying to be quiet any more.

"Yes sir?"

"Can we have a little bit of light please?" The room lit dimly. "Tony. Wake up." He pushed himself up in the bed, dragging the sleeping form with him. He felt the change as Tony woke more fully. Banner sat up, his back against the pillow, braced by the wall. "It's late. Get up."

Tony groaned and flopped away from Bruce onto his back, forearm thrown across his eyes. "Early." Only his goatee, slightly in need of a trim, was visible from under his arm

Banner huffed in amusement, at the same time mourning the loss of the weight and heat he hadn't realized he was enjoying. "It's ten thirty. Half the day is gone."

"Wake me when it's noon thirty." His voice was husky with sleep and he seemed to have forgotten the teasing of the previous discussion.

Bruce elbowed him. "I want to get up and I don't think you want me crawling over you."

"If it means I can stay in bed, crawl all you want." But as he said it he sat up and stretched, arc reactor thrust forward and arms taut above his head. He tipped his head back and yawned loudly. Bruce watched, suddenly wary. Tony turned to him and smiled. It was a full, honest smile that made his eyes shine. "I feel great. How about you gummy bear?"

"Gummy bear?" He chuckled and looked away from Tony's gaze.

"I had a strange dream about you losing control but instead of big green and mean you became a massive squishy gummy bear. A hundred times better than what I usually dream..." Stark's voice started with playful humor but trailed into remembered melancholy. His whole face started to lose the sense of joy he'd started the morning with just moments ago. Seeing the pain seeping its way into Tony's eyes caused a pang in Bruce's chest. Without thinking about it Bruce reached his arm around the other man and pulled him close. Tony relaxed against Bruce's side again and they sat together, each lost in thought about what this moment meant.


	5. Chapter 5

After that their friendship grew in the lab, as was fitting. Small touches. A tool held slightly longer than necessary before passing it over. Playful nudging when walking past. It was a comfortable camaraderie that Bruce sometimes couldn't believe was real. After several weeks even Thor, acknowledged as the least observant of the team, could see the difference.

Bruce found himself not huddling in to the corner of the couch and hiding from conversations when Tony was around. Tony would flop down next to him, and if he was a little too close for standard convention, no one mentioned it. Bruce would sprawl just a little more, hunker down a little less and if knees or sides touched both were the happier for it. Natasha would get a small wistful smile when she thought no one was looking and Bruce would quirk his small grin when she didn't catch him noticing.

At night Tony would sometimes be the first to tap out, begging to go to bed. Sometimes Bruce would succumb to the need for sleep. Other times neither would say anything, working past tired and into exhaustion, and the other would help him to bed. They'd found their rhythm, knew each other's comfortable sides and needs. Tony bought a lighter blanket - Bruce "slept hot" as he'd put it. Bruce had rearranged his room for nights they spent there so that he could still be against the wall and Tony wasn't "on the wrong side of the bed."

Bruce felt himself changing, losing some of his long held anger. Nights without horrible dreams followed by days of research, experiments, or even nothing but relaxing with a book and watching the rain. Tony had given him such a wonderful gift - he had no idea how to repay him. The man had everything he needed or wanted... Bruce found himself staring across the lab table. Tony was tinkering with something, lord only knew what it was or where it came from. Tony glanced up and smiled.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Natasha?" Tony's level gaze pulled her back to the now. She couldn't say what she'd been thinking, only that his request had startled her. He usually wasn't so perceptive.

"I'm sorry Tony. But tell me again, how did you figure out that I know about your... Uh.." She trailed off

"That I've been sleeping with Bruce?" There was no shame, no hiding in his voice. His smirk at her nod made anger flash through her. "We're not sleeping together, it's more of a... Teddy bear type thing."

Her brows knit in a mix of incredulity and confusion and he laughed outright. "You think I'm actually having sex, with the Doc? Is that why you're jealous?" His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Not jealous ... Just..." Just what she wondered, realizing she had no idea how to finish that thought.

Tony stepped around the bar, ever present whiskey in one hand. He'd still been drinking, but everyone had noticed that it wasn't *quite* as much as before. He leaned against the dark wood within touching distance of her and looked at her, all mirth gone. "He has nightmares. Bad ones. He hurts and I found by accident that my proximity quite literally, soothes the beast. Surely you can't begrudge us - him some comfort." He flinched inwardly, not having meant to divulge that he got just as much out of the nights spent together as the other man did. But Natasha, ever attentive, had a small smile curling her lips.

"You have nightmares too." No question, just simply stated. "Does he have the same effect on you?" She met his eyes, not letting him look away.

Quietly, Tony admitted, "yeah, I guess he does. We're more alike than I think either of us would care to admit."

Her stature changed, a small tension leaving her shoulders as she gave in. "I'll do it. But just once, just as a trial." Unspoken were the words because I don't know which will hurt worse - if it works, or if it doesn't.

Tony grinned again, the confident playboy once more. "I'll come back as soon as I can. But I know he's ready to drop now, and I want to make sure ... "

"That he's taken care of."


	6. Chapter 6

_**I'm posting on Ao3 now, same user name. I added "At Least He's Happy" as a chapter in this fic on that site, so this chapter makes more sense if you've read that story. Please review.**_

She'd been counting minutes since that conversation. She had no idea when or even if Bruce would sleep. It had been four days. Hopefully long enough for him to have decided tonight was a night for rest. She didn't want to go. Didn't want to face him. Prayed he would be asleep, quietly, so she could slink away unseen and unneeded.

When she was as steeled as she could get she let herself into the penthouse. She gazed into the kitchen, dark now in the hours after midnight. Her vision splintered into memories of the day she'd come to pick up Tony. The kitchen had been sunlit and warm. She'd made coffee... The memory sapped some of her resolve and her shoulders rounded as she fought not to collapse into herself.

Tony had been absent from his room, though the resident A.I. Friday had insisted he was still asleep. She'd felt needles of fear pricking through her as she left his room, hoping things were not badly awry. They hadn't been. At least not in a form that made sense at the time.

Now as she walked the length of hallway, she felt herself reliving those emotions. The lab was dark -a minor relief - but she had the same feeling of something wrong she had that day she had found Tony in Bruce's bed. She reached the door, knowing this time that he would be alone, hoping that she would be able to turn and leave.

Quietly and carefully she opened the door a few inches. Darkness emanated from the depths of the bedroom. Breath held, she crept behind the door as she opened it more fully and listened. It took several heartbeats before she heard him. When she did she let her breath out in a little gasp. Instead of the gentle rhythm of sleep, she heard sounds of fear. A small whimper, a sharp inhale. Her eyes misted. He was having a nightmare.

Tony had made her promise to pull their doc out of his dreams since he couldn't be there. Her heart hurt, realizing she had no choice but to go to him. She ached and it was partly because she still loved him, didn't want him to be in pain.

She eased back out of the room, heading back to a guest room where she'd stashed her bag. She couldn't sleep in her leather, wouldn't sleep in her work out clothes, and now that she knew she was staying she pulled out her pajamas. They were soft cotton, a matching black knit tshirt and shorts. Tiny lines of dark grey spiders marched along the fabric, nearly invisible. She'd found them one October and they'd become her go-to sleep wear. She couldn't stash a gun wearing them, but she didn't truly mind because at home she slept with one on her nightstand. Here, well... here was probably the only place in the world she trusted that she could wake up and get to a weapon before it cost her dearly.

Barefoot and slightly chilled she padded back through the labyrinthine apartment. When she got back to Bruce's door she laid a hand over the wood and concentrated on her breathing. She could do this. She needed to do this. He needed her. Tony counted on her. She could do this. She repeated the mantra, knowing that her chest would still ache and her emotions would still be raw and pained. Two would benefit and only she would suffer. The odds were against her and she went in.

With the door closed behind her she stood letting her eyes adjust. The room was only slightly familiar and she didn't want to wake him by falling. Fortunately there was just enough illumination from the clock on the bookshelf and the glow of Bruce's cell phone on its charger. It only took a few minutes before she was able to slink her way to the bed and gently, lightly lift the blankets to join him.

He was wrapped in a ball, knees hunched and arms locked around them. Small wounded noises periodically escaped his lips. A whimper, a moan. She could feel the tension in his muscles from inches away and she almost wept. His pain hurt her in ways she couldn't explain. People you love shouldn't hurt. She snuggled deeper into the bed, wrapping an arm around him, body pressed smoothly against his strong, warm back. She felt his bare skin against her arm as she squeezed it around his shoulder in a phantom of a hug.

His breath came out in a sigh almost instantly. She felt as his rigid muscles loosened one by one and his tortured exhalations became steady and deep. When he relaxed enough to straighten his legs she shifted, letting him uncurl. When he finally calmed and quit moving he was laying on his back. She gazed at him in the dim electric glow, making sure he was alright and still asleep before molding herself back to his side. She lay facing him, and tentatively lay her arm across his chest. She let her fingers graze through the curls on his chest and she closed her eyes.

If only ... She fell asleep, pining for something she couldn't have.

00000000

"Mornin' Ton." Bruce's voice was sleep slurred as he rolled over to wrap his arm around his bedmate. Something felt off. A faint scent he didn't recognize, and the belly he had just laid his forearm against was wrong. Suddenly wide awake he opened his eyes and saw "Natasha?" Fear, concern, surprise all warred in his speech. She blinked at him, red hair flung out over Tony's pillow and sadness in her eyes.

As she started to rise from bed he found himself reaching out. His fingers barely grazed her back. Snapshot flashbacks of the moment he first asked Tony to stay with him made him blink rapidly.

"Natasha. Don't. Don't go."

Her taut shoulders and her voice betrayed her. Low and husky she murmured, "Bruce, I have to. This was a mistake." His hand dropped to the bed and she stood, striding rapidly from the room. He slumped to his back and dropped a forearm over his eyes. He felt so confused. So lost. He had never expected to feel so mixed up over her again. Not after finding his solace with Tony as he had.

It was hours before he finally got up.


	7. Chapter 7

The movie had ended and Bruce clicked the remote until the incessant menu loop disappeared into blackness. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep, but obviously he had, waking only when the repeated blaring crept into his consciousness. He stretched with a yawn. The catnap hadn't been enough to allow for nightmares, nor had it been long enough for Tony to return. Pepper had insisted he attend this function, put in an appearance as it were, and he'd gone with a grumble and a promise that'd he'd be back before Bruce missed him.

Banner had smiled at that, adjusted the wonky tie Stark was messing with, and sent him out the door. The odd domesticity wasn't lost on either of them, but neither commented on it. Bruce puttered around, but didn't really feel like anything needed to be accomplished. He warmed some leftover Chinese food and retired to the living room nearest their bedrooms to kill some brain cells the old fashioned way. Tony had quite an impressive catalogue of movies. Everything from the latest and greatest to a surprising selection of animation, classics, and oddly enough, musicals. He chose an older title, an animated movie he remembered seeing once before and being impressed by. The drawings were remarkable, the story engaging and a unique take on the quest to return to Earth. Besides, he liked Drew Barrymore, and Ron Perlman's acting and he could stand Matt Damon as long as he was a cartoon.

He'd still managed to fall asleep though. Ah well, he could always watch it again. He was about to try to navigate back to where he last remembered - "What exactly are we looking for?" "Not a clue." - when Jarvis announced that Tony was home. "Thanks Jarv." A loose tension slid from his shoulders and he smiled. He let the movie play where it was and waited. Maybe he could convince Tony to head to the lab and get some work done now that the griping and groaning about fancy schmancy wastes of time would be past tense as opposed to stalling techniques.

"Yo, gummy bear! How's things?" Tony's voice was loud and raucous as he left the elevator. His tread was uneven and Bruce looked up to see the man positively swaying on his feet as he approached the couch. "Well, THAT," he declared with a dismissive wave of his arm, "was a hu-gantic, gi-normic waste of my time and brain power. I had to avail myself of the open bar just to not laugh my ass off throughout. Stupid plebeians."

Only Tony could simultaneously make up words and use multi-syllabic words in the same drunken tirade. Bruce sighed. No work would get done tonight. Instead the sloshed playboy would ramble himself into unconsciousness and Bruce would have to ensure he wasn't so far gone that he'd asphyxiate or succumb to alcohol poisoning. Tony was still making his way forward, stripping his tie and suit coat off as he went. He started on the buttons of his shirt, but became frustrated by the third attempt and finally resorted to yanking on it.

"You'll ruin it that way. C'mere." Exasperated, Bruce stood and met Tony at the end of the couch, standing barely a foot away and reaching out to the other man. Gently he swatted away the fumbling hands and deftly undid the buttons. Tony shed the shirt with a sigh of pleasure that was far too much for that simple act. The white tank top he wore under the button down was snug, showing off both his muscled torso and the blue glow of the arc reactor. Bruce found himself staring for a brief instant before looking up to meet Tony's gaze.

There was an odd little smile on his face. Tony's eyes were bright with the alcohol, but there was a strange heat in them that Bruce didn't recognize. The smile phased into a grin and Tony reached out, placing his hands on Bruce's hips. "Thanks." It was low, husky. Sultry. Bruce felt his breath falter as he looked from that grin to the hands clasping him gently. "Uh, Tony?" His heart beat was picking up, though nowhere near danger zone yet, and his mind raced.

"Yeah, gummy bear?" A bare whisper, with a laughing edge. He closed the small distance as he spoke, a scant inch between the two of them. He leaned forward, still gripping Bruce's hips, and rested his forehead against Bruce's.

For his part, Bruce found himself frozen in place. What the fresh hell was going on? He could smell the alcohol on Tony's breath from this close. He could see every eyelash, the flecks of gold embedded in the warm brown eyes that stared at him. A trickle of desire slid through his veins and he tried to step back, away from his inebriated friend. A flash of annoyance and a slight tightening of the grip was all the warning he got before Tony closed the distance and pressed his mouth hungrily to his own.

It was a bruising kiss, full of strength and need. Tony forced himself close, releasing Bruce momentarily, only to wrap his arms around his back and pull him tighter. Bruce whimpered, but the sound was swallowed by Tony's low throaty growl. His mind struggled. Half was fighting away from this insane mess and trying desperately to keep his vitals in check. The other half wanted to melt against the man in front of him, sink into the kiss and let it the chips fall as they may. He finally got his hands up, flat to Tony's chest, and thrust their bodies apart. He put some distance between them before speaking.

"Tony, you're drunk. You don't know what you're doing." His breathing was erratic, chest hitching, lips throbbing, as he stood watching the billionaire. His pulse beat along his skin, tingling as he forced himself to see the situation clearly. Tony was his friend. He was drunk. He wasn't thinking clearly. Bruce slumped, shoulders low and head hanging. "Just go to bed Tony."

Laughter rumbled. "Oh, can we doc?" Bruce looked up sharply. Tony's lips were crimson, swollen with the force of their kiss. His face was flushed, eyes still shining but with a dark intensity that shook Bruce to his core. Tony took a few steps, re-closing the space.

"That's not what I meant and you know it!" Anger threaded his words and Bruce closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. "You're drunk, you're toying with me, and I don't want to lose it because you're being an ass!" When he opened his eyes Tony was looking at him from a few inches away with such an intense sadness in his eyes that it hurt.

"I'm not." It came out petulant, childish.

"Not what? Drunk? Messing with me? Being an ass?" Bruce scoffed. "All of the above? Tony, you're my friend, but you're really pissing me off right now. And you know what that means..." He really didn't want to be having this conversation. Not here. Not now, with Tony so intoxicated. He really really didn't want to unleash the Hulk. For so many reasons, not least of all because in this state he wasn't sure Tony would be able to suit up and avoid the rage. He sure wouldn't be able to help from attacking.

He stared at Tony's sad expression and wished he was wholly human, not a thin she'll over a monster. He wished he didn't have to worry about everything so much, having to keep such tight control all the time. He wished he could kiss that wounded expression away. He sighed again.

•••— — —•••

"All of the above?" Tony touched Bruce's shoulder, standing face to face with the slightly shorter man again. The barest difference in heights, only an inch or so... It would be so easy to lean in again... But the anger held him back, kept him from pushing it again. He wasn't as drunk as he was acting... He knew his limits and knew he was far from where the doc thought he was. He'd only intended to play it up a little, awaken the protective and comforting instincts he knew were in Bruce. He'd succeeded. Bruce had immediately jumped to take care of him, helping with the shirt and all. Tony had seen his attention catch and his mind wander as they stood so close, and his own thought processes had short circuited.

He'd grabbed for Bruce out of sheer want, and when the doc hadn't leapt away immediately he'd pressed his luck again and ... And it was the most satisfying kiss he'd had in ages. Months of pent up desire that built each time they took comfort in one another had burst forward and washed away his restraint. There was no thought, no motive, just the feel of their bodies. And then Bruce had pushed him away, and he realized just what kind of fire he was playing with.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes sir?"

Tony stepped back from Bruce, steady and clear. "What's my blood alcohol level?" He'd anticipated having to prove he was mentally capable at some point in the proceedings, he just hadn't thought it would be before anything really started.

"Sir, at last reading your level was 0.078, though it has likely dropped since."

Tony looked calmly at Bruce, whose attention was locked onto him. "I'm not drunk."

"So you're messing with me." The hurt expression that accompanied that statement made Tony's gut clench.

"No. Well... Not really. Kind of?" He didn't know how to explain. He ran his hands through his hair and slumped onto the couch. "Honestly. I wasn't trying to mess with you." Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose and crumpled onto the other end of the couch, arms resting on his knees and head supported on his hands.

"Explain, because I'm really lost."

"I just... I just wanted you to want to take care of me." It sounded selfish and shallow and he realized how pathetic it was.

"Tony? You're an ass."

"I know."

"You don't have to try to trick me. You just have to ask."

Tony huffed. "Yeah, because you know how good I am at asking for anything..." His fingers lazily circled his reactor, eyes focused on the blue glow as he spoke quietly.

"Why did you want my attention tonight?" The soft question was full of genuine curiosity, with no trace of frustrated anger.

"Same reason I always want your attention I suppose..." Tony faltered, not having meant to say that aloud. There was a shifting of weight as Bruce turned to face him.

"And that is...?"

Oh for fuck's sake, Tony growled to himself. He'd already made an ass of himself, almost turned his friend into the big green rage monster, and probably ended the only good thing he had going lately. Why not go for broke. "Because I think I love you." It was matter of fact, no nonsense, and met with complete silence. Tony's breath hitched and he rose ungracefully from the couch.

Well, that's over. Just ruined the one true friendship I have that isn't with a computer program. Way to go Anthony. Way. To. Go. His melancholy thoughts trailed him as he went to his room. The litany of his own stupidity raced through his brain as he stripped out of the rest of his business suit, and stepped into the shower. He chastised himself as he threw on a pair of soft pajama pants and left the steamy bathroom for his dark bedroom.

He slid into bed, knowing it would be a sleepless and tormented night. Rolling on to his side, he stretched his arm out and brushed something solid. He recoiled slightly, then reached tentatively out again, hand splayed. A familiar heartbeat thudded against his palm, warm skin shifting with each breath. "Bruce?" The bed shifted as the other man moved, apparently rolling to his side so they could face one another in the nonexistent light.

"Yeah?"

"Not that I'm complaining, but..." He trailed off, the list of his fuck ups cranking to life in his head.

"I love you too."

Of the million things he expected to hear, this wasn't even on the list. He couldn't process what had just happened. He hadn't moved his hand yet, so he tugged a chest hair.

"Yeow! What the hell was that for?" Bruce rubbed his chest, catching Tony's fingers under his hand. When there was no answer, he continued. "Look, Tony, I..." He trailed off, breathing deeply and slowly. Tony let him collect himself, because honestly, he couldn't figure out what to do or say at that moment either.

"Tony, I've always been attracted to you." Tony started to make a comment, but Bruce shushed him. "No, don't make light of it. This is hard enough as it is. And don't you dare make a comment about that!" Tony smiled because he had been about to make a joke about things being hard. It made small fluttery feelings ignite in his chest to know that Bruce knew him so well as to anticipate his comments.

"Well, you've been here for me. A lot. You've given me so much. And you've never expected anything from it. Never wanted me to repay you. And most importantly, you've never looked at me like the monster I am." Here Tony made a small sound, wanting to interrupt and tell him just how little of a monster he was and to quit talking about himself like that, but Bruce touched his arm and he quieted. "Shh. I know. I know what you're going to say - I'm not a monster, Hulk isn't horrible, etc etc. - I know where this argument would go because we've had it before. I know what you think of me in that sense. But Tony, I don't know what to do from here." His voice had been quiet to start, trailing into a bare whisper tinged with a confused sorrow.

It was a long speech for the doc. Even when they were in the lab he may speak that much in a day, but never in one rush. It made Tony wish he could get rid of those fears, the restraint Bruce lived with, and all the unpleasantness. But he knew he couldn't, and it hurt. The quivery feelings blended with a soft longing and he slid himself nearer, snaking his arm around the doc and pulling him closer. He scooted himself up until he could rest his chin on Bruce's curls and tuck him in against his chest. Nuzzling against the scientist he gave a brief squeezing hug. He spoke softly, breath ruffling Bruce's hair. "Me neither, but I have a few suggestions." Bruce squirmed against him and he let go, allowing some distance to open, though it hurt.

Before he could fully adjust to the emptiness against him, there was a rustling shift and a soft mouth pressed to his. A shy kiss, none of the bruising or teeth from before, but a gentle and almost scared brush of lips. Tony pressed back tenderly, threading his fingers into Bruce's hair and just reveling in the touch. When Bruce pulled away Tony was smiling. They both made timid sounds, half laughing, half whining and then Bruce was back, needy and breathing raggedly. Tony obliged, tugging slightly on the thick strands he held and finally thinking to free his other arm from beneath his head. He touched Bruce's face with the other hand and they stilled, separated by less than an inch, tasting one another on their lips.

"Don't leave me." Tony knew some part of Bruce would be struggling, making plans, getting ready to flee. It would kill something inside of him if this was what drove the spike into the heart of their relationship, whatever form it would take from here out.

"I won't." But unspoken was a "yet," a "but," that threatened to crawl in and take over.

Tony kissed him again and whispered again. "Don't. Leave. Me. I couldn't stand it if you did. I need you." It was tough and strange to admit, but there it was. And as Bruce clung a little more tightly to him, he had the feeling that Bruce needed him too.

"I won't." And this time there was no trace of disaster left unsaid behind the words.

They huddled against each other, kissing and touching gently, hands smoothing along arms and muscled backs, fingers combing through hair. It was gentle exploration, a new expanse of their selves that each explored and delighted in. After who knows how long they both quieted, falling asleep cuddled against each other, Tony's arms wrapped protectively around Bruce and Bruce with his face nestled against Tony's chest. They slept, each secure and comfortable, though neither had a clue what was to happen from here. But that was a problem for the morning. Or maybe never.


End file.
